


No Phone Service in Space

by lemoninagin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Accidental but Still Appreciated Bondage, Awkward Boners, Bickering, Comedy, First Kiss, Lance is an ass man, Lance just being completely inappropriate on every level that he possibly can, M/M, Poorly Timed Selfies, Unresolved Sexual Tension, based off of scene omitted from episode 6 where Lance is tied to the tree, bigoted alien ropes, clearly, slight homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 15:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7579015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lemoninagin/pseuds/lemoninagin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh man, you’re actually kinda sexy when you’re being all cocky, oh no. What have you done to me?” Lance lamented, turning his head to the sky and doing a cross motion, hand skipping from his forehead, down to his chest, then across each shoulder in silent, dramatic prayer.</p><p>Keith couldn’t believe it. He almost threw Lance in the weird river nearby. “What have <i>I</i> done to <i>you</i>? Are you fucking kidding--”</p><p>Lance clapped a hand on each of Keith’s shoulders, his face set into rigid determination. “Keith, real talk. Can I kiss you?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Phone Service in Space

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Caramello](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caramello/gifts).



> Ever wonder what happened during episode 6 between the time Lance was tied to the tree and then rescued? Well, wonder no more. Also, apologies in advance for bringing my trash into this lovely fandom.
> 
>  
> 
> For Mello, who comments, kudos, and reads like basically all my garbage. Heard you were in Klance hell so...

 

“Keith.”

 

_Click._

 

“Hahaha, oh man. This is great. Hey can you lean a little to the left? I want to get a good angle that really represents how pathetic you look right now. For, you know, science.”

 

“Keith, look, can’t we talk this over? Come on now!”

 

_Snap. Flash._

 

“No, _you_ come on, move your ass out of the way. Ahh, yeah, that’s a good facial expression right there - moody, with a chance of pissed off. Perfect material for all of us to laugh at later.”

 

“A _chance_ of pissed off? A _chance_ ? Oh, that is just--” _snap!_ “Keith, seriously that’s enough! Help me out of this already, you sadistic asshole!”

 

Keith frowned, lowering his phone. He made a show of looking around the completely deserted planet, minus Lance and the tree he was still chained to. He’d agreed, although reluctantly, to go pick up Lance after all, as he couldn’t really pass up the golden opportunity to harass him a little more before setting him free.

 

The rescue mission so far had only consisted of Keith taking pictures of Lance incapacitated (with some selfies of him smiling brightly with Lance as well, which had, in hindsight, probably only made things worse) and cackling like a deranged hyena.

 

“Why? You got somewhere to be?” Keith raised an eyebrow, a small smirk crawling up his face.

 

Lance threw out a pout, lip jutting ridiculously as he held his head up, pleading with big, glassy puppy dog-like eyes. He fell to his knees dramatically, clasped his hands together. All in all, since his arms were stuck upright, he was doing a pretty accurate imitation of either a beggar or someone praying very vigorously.

 

“Aw, quit being a dick! I’m getting hungry, dammit!”

 

“You look a little tied up at the moment, not sure I can do anything about it.”

 

“Oh my god. I’m going to kill you when I get out of this, you horrible, mullet-headed villain! I really, really am.” Lance paused. “After I eat, that is.”

 

Keith shrugged, then sat down and leaned casually against the side of the tree Lance wasn’t on. He calculated that they had about a half hour or so before they had to head back. It wasn’t hugely pressing, but he knew that was about the time that Hunk would allow before he really started harping about it, and Keith tried to keep that in mind at least.

 

In the meantime, Keith _was_ on a sadistic streak of sorts - he’d moved both of their helmets far enough away that Lance’s grumbling couldn’t be heard even if he screamed, which may have been more indicative of some deranged serial killer tendencies (that’s what Lance hypothesized, anyway).

 

Lance swung up a leg, utilizing the lanky limb as his only real weapon of retaliation, but Keith merely shifted right, dodging it easily as he anticipated the cheap shot before it happened. He held up his phone over his head, staring at the screen as Lance huffed and cursed incoherently at him. He was twisting this way and that in the grip of the handcuffs, trying futilely to free himself so he could properly kick Keith’s ass.

 

“You know what sucks? No phone service in space. Real bummer.”

 

Keith sighed forlornly, turning to face Lance as he tucked his phone back into a pocket in his armor that Lance didn’t know existed. Keith pressed a button on his hip swiftly, and the makeshift pocket swallowed the phone and then disappeared, sinking down on the panel over his thigh until it was completely flat again, making Lance question whether it had ever been there in the first place.

 

Lance temporarily forgot his annoying situation, temporarily ignored the chafing around his wrists, temporarily put aside the pain in his back from leaning in such a weird position and the intense urges he was having to kick Keith’s ass into the sweet oblivion of space, because what the ever loving fuck was _that_?

 

It wasn’t fair, Keith got all the cool gadgets! Pidge, Hunk, and Shiro could have all the gadgets they wanted, but Keith?! No. He wanted one, damn it all.

 

“What in the fuck, I mean, what the hell is that thing? And where in the world did you get a pho--”

 

Keith seemed to understand what Lance was flailing on about and gestured to where the pocket had been only moments before.

 

“What, this? Modifications from Pidge. Kid’s a real genius,” he said simply, bored tone evident. He leaned back against the tree, crossing his arms behind his head as if he was settling in for a nap.

 

“Oh.”

 

Lance made a mental note to harass Pidge about that later. He refocused himself to get ready to continue screaming at Keith. Keith disengaged one arm to pat his thigh fondly.

 

“Yeah, it’s neat, huh?”

 

“Sure, yeah, _real_ neat. You know what else is neat though?” Lance said, seething between gritted teeth. He raised his voice into a booming crescendo of a yell. “HELPING UNTIE ME AND GETTING US THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, YOU FUCKING PSYCHO!”

 

Keith lolled his head to the side, using the tree as support, chin poised in the air as he grinned from ear to ear. “That honestly doesn’t sound as interesting, but I suppose you do have a valid point. We should get out of here soon.”

 

Keith pulled himself up slowly, brushing dirt off his suit. His eyebrows raised in a thinly veiled challenge, trying to convey how disappointed he was about having to end his teasing. He put a hand to his hip, looming over the prostrated Lance.

 

“Shame, though. I do like watching you squirm.”

 

To Keith’s surprise, a deep flush suspiciously bloomed along Lance’s cheeks. Lance, in an attempt to cover up whatever that was, barked out, “You...per- _jerk_. Just, get me off of here, will you?” Lance rattled the cuffs, returning back into his more defeated posture on his knees.

 

“Alright, alright. No need to act so desperate, sheesh. How would you do in an actual situation where you were taken prisoner? I imagine not well.”

 

“Tch, whatever. [Shut your quiznak](http://ironnheart.tumblr.com/post/147703587472/ask-chris-the-janitor-quiznak-is-like-the).”

 

“You keep using that word, and yet, I don’t think it means what you think it means…”

 

“It means you have a quiznak, and you really need to shut it. Pretty straightforward.”

 

Keith rolled his eyes, chuckling lightly. “Right, of course.”

 

Keith brandished his bayard, sizing up the cords attached to Lance’s wrists, trying to figure out the best way to go about severing it that wouldn’t involved chopping off Lance’s hands as well. The rope connecting it all wrapped around the tree, and could possibly be cut from that end first, making it easier to get the rest off of Lance’s wrists as he wouldn’t be stuck to the tree and could also potentially keep all his limbs intact.

 

Whatever would make Lance stop bitching the most, would be the best place to start, Keith decided.

 

“Brace yourself back from the tree, Lance, I’m gonna try and get this part off first.”

 

Lance ducked his head and closed his eyes in case any dust or debris got drawn up as well, preparing for impact. Keith wound his hand back, then sliced at the target. It connected harshly, feeling less like an impact with a rope, and more like one on a weird metal - but also somehow rubbery - pole. The reverberation of the blow dispersed the force through Keith’s arm painfully, and he fell back to catch his balance. His whole body buzzed afterwards as he attempted to steady himself.

 

“Ah, shit.”

 

“What, what is it? That doesn’t sound good, what’s going on?” Lance said, panicked, not sure if he could open his eyes to glance up yet.

 

The rope simply glowed brighter, not affected at all by the attack. Keith scowled, rocking forward on the balls of his feet into more of a fighting stance. He backed up a little ways, intending to use force by building momentum and then slashing down his weapon. But again, as he practically flung himself at the tree and drove his bayard into the weird glowing rope, it did not budge.

 

“Stupid shitty alien rope! I swear, once I find out where the fuck this thing comes from, and who makes them, I’ll end them immediately!”

 

The rope pulsed a brighter blue at him, as if to say, “I dare you, filthy human scum.”

 

“Yeah, you show that rope who’s boss, buddy! Yelling at it should _really_ get it separated faster!”

 

“Quiet, idiot.”

 

Keith tried throwing himself at the rope about ten more times before Lance began complaining again. Keith was pissed beyond belief that he was being bested by a stupid rope that was mockingly glowing at him the more he attempted to break it, and even more annoyed that Lance wouldn’t shut the fuck up. He hurled his bayard to the ground in frustration and groaned.

 

The rope emanated a lighter, more electric sort of blue that blinked on and off, as if in triumph.

 

“Oh, you wanna go, little blue? We’ll go alright!” Keith growled, balling his hands into fists and facing the rope as if in preparation to do hand-to-hand combat.

 

“Keith, bud, refocus, it’ll be alright. Walk it off, man, walk it off. That rope ain’t got nothing on us, it’s not worth wasting more time on!”

 

Shaking the urge from his shoulders to somehow figure out the best way to strangle a rope, Keith snapped out of it with the help of Lance’s level-headed response, and he did indeed walk it off.

 

“Right...hate to say this, but you’re right.”

 

Walking it off didn’t exclude Keith shaking one last warning fist at the rope for good measure, however. Breathlessly, he wiped off the sweat from his brow as he thought of a different angle to choose.

 

It only took Keith a few moments to reassess the only other option, which wasn’t one he was particularly thrilled about, as it included being uncomfortably close to Lance. But certain things had to be sacrificed for the good of the universe, especially when it came to your own personal comfort, so he mentally prepared himself and laid out his thoughts to the idiotic boy who was dumb enough to get chained to a motherfucking tree in the first place.

 

Keith swallowed his pride, gathered his bayard, and walked around to the other side of the tree next to Lance.

 

“Alright, new plan. Looks like we’re going to have to get your hands free first, unfortunately. Sorry, it’s going to be a little awkward. Though you’re used to being awkward, so I’m sure it’s not an issue.”

 

“I’m going to cut your mullet off while you sleep after this, so if I were you, I’d watch what you say,” Lance whined as he threatened Keith, continuing to fidget. His blush hadn’t died down at all, and he was avoiding making any sort of eye contact.

 

Keith dropped to Lance’s level, drawing as close as he could to the cuffs, forcing their faces to be mere inches away. He guessed that by doing it delicately and with great precision, he could get the cord to break, as the ones wound around Lance appeared to be thinner and not glowing. They were clearly wrought with a different material, one that Keith hoped wasn’t somewhat sentient and bent on fighting him. It would be tedious work, however - work that also involved getting the squirming Lance to stay still.

 

“Well now that you told me about it, it wouldn’t really be an ambush, and I could prepare in advance for the ‘surprise’ attack. Try harder, dude, you’re embarrassing yourself. And quit acting like it’s _my_ fault you got into this situation. If you weren’t always thinking with your dick, we wouldn’t even be here.”

 

“Don’t be crude, I wasn’t thinking with my dick. Nyma was...cute and I...wanted to make a good impression,” Lance mumbled, glaring to the side, attempting to pull his face as far away from Keith’s as he could manage, lest he give into his gut feeling to headbutt it. He left out the part about how he got into the mess in the first place due to Nyma threatening to go off with Keith instead. He’d keep that part to himself, because obviously this really was all Keith’s fault.

 

“Exactly, thinking with your dick. Now quit moving, unless you’d like to lose your precious hands, too, along with your dignity.” And Keith _could_ have stopped there, _should_ have stopped there, but again - the opportunity presented itself perfectly, and he couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. “...which would be pretty bad, considering they’re the only things that will ever be there for you on lonely nights.”

 

Keith snickered, and before he could make the first incision, Lance swept him off balance with a quick kick to the back of his knees. Keith fell forward, ending up completely underneath Lance, who started laughing his ass off. Keith pushed himself from the ground so he was crouched on his hands and knees, picking his head up so he could glare at Lance.

 

“What the fuck, man? Are you actively _trying_ to lose limbs here?!

 

“Hey, if you weren’t taking so many jabs at me, maybe I wouldn’t have to resort to violence!”

 

They shared a few moments in which they both stared at each other, at a standstill since both had equal reasons and valid points to stop bickering and work together so they could leave. Their team was counting on them, and already they’d wasted about 15 minutes uselessly fighting and taunting about nothing.

 

Keith looked up from his new position under the cuffs, which was actually a much better angle than what he was originally going to attempt, so he supposed he could drop the argument for now.

 

Moving to a sitting position crouched underneath Lance with his back to him, Keith retracted his bayard somewhat so the blade wasn’t longer than his hand, and settled it at a groove near Lance’s left wrist. He noticed, upon closer inspection of it, that it was layered in a few different colored coils.

 

After hacking at it for a few minutes, Keith began to feel frustrated again. The cord was barely budging, and he’d only managed to get one thin pink layer off it. Lance had gone unusually silent, minus some short, small pants of breath that Keith heard inevitably close to his ear which unfortunately meant he was very much still alive.

 

Sticking his tongue out as he concentrated while blowing a puff of air at his bangs which had fallen into his face, Keith raised himself on his knees, arching his back with his ass pointed towards Lance. He thought he heard Lance say something, but it was muffled by the sound of the cord making a high-pitched ringing noise.

 

Keith tried not to think too much about what the position must have looked like from afar, and pushed forward, finding it easier to bear his weight more upright like he was. Two more layers down and he had no idea how many more to go, but he began chopping at it more vigorously. In his eagerness to break the cord, he was unaware of how his body was drifting back, and doubly unaware of Lance’s arms pulling taught above him as if subtly trying to get away.

 

Which is why, when he backed up completely into Lance’s crotch, Keith jolted as he hadn’t meant to invade more of his personal space. There was a sharp intake of breath from behind him, then the sound of a low, drawn out moan.

 

“Oh _fuck_ …Keith, d-don’t...”

 

Keith paused his sawing, wondering if he’d really heard that right. As a test, he repeated the movement (purely out of curiosity), making contact with the armor at Lance’s groin as he pushed himself into it. Lance swore in Spanish this time, rocking his hips back against him, then whimpered when Keith pulled away fast as if he’d been burned.

 

Keith raised his voice, incredulous, “Christ. You’re...you’re turned on from this, aren’t you?! You have got to be shitting me. Out of all the stupid things that you could do, this is...wow. I don’t even have words, what the fuck.”

 

Keith was too mortified to turn around to let Lance see how properly disturbed he was. He could have gone the rest of his life never knowing that Lance actually _enjoyed_ being tied up. Lance’s voice came out slightly laboured, all the while Keith was trying to block out the reason behind why.

 

“I’m sorry! I can’t help what I like!”

“Well, you should when it involves one of your teammates being underneath you at the time you decide to pop a boner!”

 

“I didn’t _just_ pop one, it’s been there since I--”

 

“Oh my god, please stop talking, I really didn’t want to know this.”

 

Keith shook his head, wanting to put his hands over his ears, but he didn’t want to stop his work. He applied more pressure on the cord and moved faster, almost frantically. The quicker this was done, the quicker he could escape.

 

“It’s partially your fault you know, leaving me on here this long for no reason, then bending like that in front of me. Honestly, how else is my dick supposed to feel about that? Cut the poor organ some slack, man. And while you’re at it, my brain as well, it’s being severely restricted of blood at the moment!”

 

“Well that’s a given, when _isn’t_ it being restricted of blood! And what are you talking about, I have to bend like this because it’s the easiest way!” Keith’s voice cracked as it rose to a hysterical screech, before he considered the more pressing issue with what Lance had just admitted. “Wait, are you staring at my ass?”

 

Lance didn’t respond. Knowing Lance, Keith took that as his form of cowardly confirmation.

 

“Lance, _why_ are you _staring at my ass_?”

 

Lance huffed, trying not to jingle the cuffs as he ticked off reasons angrily on his fingers.

 

“Well for one thing, because it’s right _there_ , kinda hard to miss, geez. Reason two, it’s fucking beautiful, obviously. And three isn’t a reason at all, but I’m sorry! You rubbed it against me, what the hell did you expect!”

 

“I - ! You - ! What?” Keith struggled to find the proper words. Lance thought his ass was beautiful? What even. He couldn’t find any good responses, so he settled on, “You know what? I don’t wanna know anything else. I...I’m almost done, okay?”

 

“Fine, fine, seriously then, hurry up. Now that you know though, can I just say, this is literal torture. I feel like I’m gonna explode. It’s like having a fuckin’ piece of concrete in here, this suit is cramping me in ways you would not believe. Or maybe it’s more like having a fully charged rocket, ready to blast off--”

 

“Would you _please_ shut the hell up! I don’t want to hear anymore about your dick, for fuck’s sake!”

 

“I’m just saying, man to man, heart to heart here, more bonding moments you know - it hurts. It hurts a lot, and I need to get out of here and back to the ship so I can take off this restrictive uniform as soon as--”

 

“I never want a bonding moment with you again,” Keith deadpanned. Another layer on the cord snapped.

 

“That’s fair, I guess. But consider this: You’re walking in a tiny, form fitting suit, when suddenly, it’s like you were forced to carry a bowling ball that’s attached to your co--”

 

“Look, I really can’t concentrate when you’re…” Keith trailed off, gulping slightly, not sure why his face was feeling so hot. Well, maybe he knew a little about why he was feeling that way. His fellow paladin was incredibly close with his body pressed up behind him, stuck to a tree he was tediously cutting him from, and apparently he was horny as hell. Keith didn’t know how to deal with a situation like this, they certainly had never trained for anything like it.

 

There was no manual for such a thing, no simulation they’d been forced to participate in that even came close to being similar. Things like that, like combat and training, they made sense. They had a system that could be followed, built upon, improved, and explored. People - well people and social interaction surely didn’t come with fucking manuals, especially when dealing with someone like Lance. He knew getting closer to Lance would be an instant annoyance and subsequent thorn in his side.

 

“I-I mean, no worries, I’m n-not gonna do anything, er…” Lance stammered, and Keith could feel the warmth of his breath sputtering in erratic puffs against his neck.

 

Keith thought that would be the end of it - he’d _hoped_ it would have been the end of it - until Lance spoke up once more, whispering in a quiet voice nervously right at his ear, as if he was testing for a certain reaction, “...um...unless you uh, maybe want me to, uh, do _something_ , that is…”

 

“Dude,” Keith said, dropping his bayard in surprise. “ _Dude_.”

 

That was the word he’d been searching for. ‘Dude’ was really the only appropriate way to deal with the bizarre situation. Was he being fucked with?

 

Lance roared a laugh into his ear, making Keith cringe back at the volume of it.

 

“Pfft, what? Did I make you more nervous? Hahaha! Aww, poor Keith can’t handle a little seduction!”

 

“This...this is so _not_ the time to be hitting on me, what the hell is your problem? You really do never stop thinking with your dick. Cut it out, it’s not appropriate. We’ve got a job to do.”

 

“Hey, I was just putting the offer out there. If not, cool, untie me in one piece so I can still make good use of my best friends,” Lance said happily, wiggling his fingers as he said ‘best friends’. Okay, now Keith was sure he was being openly fucked with.

 

Keith blanched, forgetting entirely for a moment what he was supposed to be doing. He didn’t know why he was suddenly thinking about Lance jacking off.

 

He didn’t want to think about Lance jacking off. Why was this happening.

 

Slowly, with a deep breath, Keith forced himself to push those hideous thoughts aside, picked up his bayard, and returned to cutting the cuff from Lance’s left wrist. The work was getting easier than the first few layers had been, and Keith was happy about that, as it was almost like the rope was giving up. Lance was mostly silent for a few more minutes, enough so that Keith was able to focus on getting to the last layer of the accursed band, when -

 

“You know, there’s something bothering me. When you said it’s not appropriate and this isn’t the time for flirting, doesn’t that mean that you are totally up for a time when it _would_ be more appropriate?” Lance murmured unnecessarily breathily, and so close to Keith’s ear he physically jumped, forcing the top of his head to hit against Lance’s elbow.

 

Lance giggled, and goddamn, if Keith could only manage to get this one wrist out, then he could force Lance to get himself off the tree and promptly fuck off back to the ship where he could splash cold water over his face and forget this ever, ever happened.

 

“...I didn’t say that at all.”

 

“Well, yeah, ‘cause it was _implied_ . And you didn’t _not_ say it.”

 

Keith tugged at his hair in exasperation, stilling once again in his work with his bayard. “Why would you even care? You don’t even like me!”

 

“Well, I kinda like your ass, so…”

 

“You’re only saying that because you’re...in the mood.” Keith hated those words the instant they came out of his mouth - hated them, hated this, hated Lance. He was officially never going on a mission to rescue Lance from anything ever again. “You’re not actually attracted to me, so stop freaking out. I just happen to be the only living thing around you, and therefore, where you’re setting your admirations on. It’s projection, plain and simple.”

 

“Right...of course…” Lance inhaled sharply, a sign he was likely going to say something dumb. “...but I’m pretty sure from this point on, I’ll still think you have a nice ass no matter what the situation is, and that is completely and utterly on you.”

 

Yup, Keith was right about that. He sighed, mulling over some things in his head, until he came to a conclusion that he thought would be beneficial to everyone in the long run. It would take him maybe a minute, tops, to get the last strand cut if he could find a way to get Lance to shut up and let him work. He needed a serious distraction for Lance’s short attention span.

 

Keith moved his hand that was worrying the strands on his scalp and gathered up his hair in one thick bundle and swept it to the side, exposing his nape and baring his neck to Lance. Keith hoped Lance wouldn’t make him regret doing this.

 

“...fine, go on then, if you like me so much,” Keith said softly, steadying the bayard at the thin cord and gesturing to his neck with his free hand. “...do what you want with it, as long as it keeps your stupid mouth busy.”

 

“Whoah, really? Are you sure, cause I--”

 

“ _Lance_ ,” Keith warned. “You have about 60 seconds, I suggest you do it while you still can. It's either that, or be quiet.”

 

Lance didn’t need to be told twice for once.

 

Warm, slightly dry, but very full lips planted themselves awkwardly near the base of his neck, and Keith shivered, bearing forward on the cord, bayard shaking the tiniest bit in his grasp. Despite him asking for it, Keith wasn’t entirely prepared for how nice it would feel. Either his neck was more sensitive than he’d anticipated, or he’d been so deprived that he was needy for the slightest bit of contact.

 

Whatever, not like it really mattered, he could figure that out later.

 

He tipped his head to the side, allowing easier access to it for Lance. Lance worked his way up it slowly, sprinkling rather innocent butterfly kisses here and there with uncertainty, until he flicked his tongue out in a show of confidence when he reached right below Keith’s ear. He traced it right over the flush Keith could feel spreading up his neck, dragging it carefully across his heated skin like one would expect someone to lap at an ice cream cone.

 

“Ah…”  Keith found himself letting out the small sigh of satisfaction against his better judgment, and he was sure the tips of his ears were probably red enough to match the rest of his face. To his disappointment, Lance pulled away at the sound.

 

“Sorry. Are you alright? You taste nice. Shit, is that a weird thing to say? That’s a weird thing to say, isn’t it? You know, this is dumb, let’s just forget that--”

 

“Don’t…” The cord made a strange ringing noise as Keith shaved off the last threads, which were peeling away like a banana at that point. “...I’m fine, don’t stop. Almost there.”

 

He heard Lance shift behind him, then an intense comforting warmth flooded his back as Lance practically draped himself over it. Before he knew it, Lance’s mouth was on him once again, carefully sucking and nibbling at his earlobe. Keith hissed, head snapping back at the touch, and there was a loud twanging sound as the cord finally fell apart. To their surprise, once it had been severed, the rest of it dissipated entirely, bursting into nothing but mere specks of dust in the wind.

 

Which was definitely a plus, because Lance was on him in an instant, flipping him around and shoving his back roughly against the bark on the tree. He hovered in front of Keith once in the position, as if he was unsure where to go from there. Keith, though enjoying the sensation of being shoved against something so carelessly, couldn’t help from shouting out a triumphant war cry and sticking his tongue at the broken up form of the rope.

 

“Yeah, that’s right, fucking fuck off into dust flakes, you little bitch ass alien rope!”

 

 _“Whatever. Zarkin’ poofters ain’t worth my time. Later, queens,”_ said a faint, electronic sounding voice from the direction of the floating specks, which twinkled at them disapprovingly and then flew away. Both Lance and Keith gaped, staring flabbergasted at each other at the startling fact sentient rope flakes had dissed them.

 

“Did that--did that--”

 

“Yes.”

 

“The fucker could talk the whole time?!”

 

“Apparently.”

 

“Ugh.”

 

“Unreal. Guess bigotry exists literally everywhere. I think our gay moment helped, then. That alien cord was totally homophobic, dude.”

 

Keith cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, “Well then, it’s good that its piece-of-shit-blinking-bigoted-jerk ass is in a million little pieces now!! Haha! Suck it, blinkie!”

 

The dust cord was long gone, but Keith relished in flipping off the direction in which it had disappeared. When he focused his attention back on Lance - whom was pulled up close enough he’d be in his lap if he moved a fraction of an inch forward - he was looking at Keith with a much more flustered expression, jaw hanging open. Keith tilted his head in question, unsure about this new expression being directed at him.

 

“You look funny. And by ‘funny’, I mean kind of dumb.”

 

“Oh man, you’re actually kinda sexy when you’re being all cocky, oh no. What have you done to me?” Lance lamented, turning his head to the sky and doing a cross motion, hand skipping from his forehead, down to his chest, then across each shoulder in silent, dramatic prayer.

 

Keith couldn’t believe it. He almost threw Lance in the weird river nearby. “What have _I_ done to _you_? Are you fucking kidding--”

 

Lance clapped a hand on each of Keith’s shoulders, his face set into rigid determination. “Keith, real talk. Can I kiss you?”

 

“W-what?” Keith’s eyes widened at the randomness of the question. Well, to him it seemed random, but he thought he might as well “get real” about this too - only minutes ago he’d allowed Lance to suck on his neck, so he supposed it wasn’t completely out of left-field logic. “You...must be joking.”

 

Lance squeezed one of his shoulders, perfectly placed between Keith’s legs on his knees in a crouched position. He raised a finger and waved it, along with shaking his head, looking indignant that Keith dared to assume he’d joke about such a thing.

 

“No, no, no jokes, es la verdad. Please tell me I can kiss you, or at least reject me quickly now, before I do something stupider.”

 

“Excuse me, before you do something stupider than getting all hot and bothered from being tied and held captive to a tree, after being tricked and losing your lion? Oh lord.” Keith sighed, staring at Lance levelly, who was biting at his bottom lip in that way Keith noticed he did whenever he got anxious. “...alright, if you must. Get it out of your system.”

 

Lance’s eyes immediately lit up, and he shuffled in closer until their foreheads were touching. Keith was expecting something with a lot of tongue, was braced for something intrusive and a little competitive maybe, something impulsive and probably poorly executed. Really, he expected anything that would have been inherently, very, very Lance.

 

Contrary to all his expectations, Lance pressed his lips against his own with such a light pressure, Keith found himself cracking open an eye to make sure they were kissing at all. On top of that, Lance gently threaded his fingers into his hair, holding onto either side of his face, giving the whole thing an oddly intimate atmosphere.

 

It didn’t last more than a few seconds, Keith figured, but it felt almost like time had stopped for a minute there. There was no tongue, no boasting, or sloppy technique. He hadn’t even really moved at all. It took Keith much longer to realize he should probably start breathing again after Lance pulled away, his face displaying the most abashed look Keith had ever seen.

 

He must have been wearing a similar expression, because Lance drifted a hand to tip up his chin as if inspecting it, his own face growing deeper in its flush. Keith wrinkled his nose.

 

“...What?”

 

“God, you are so cute. When did you get this cute? Oh my god, this is bad, really, really bad. I think you’re adorable. This is the worst.”

 

Keith knocked Lance’s hand away. Lance was actually a gigantic romantic mush. A moron, yes, but a sickeningly romantic one, in his own weird way.

 

“Doesn’t _feel_ bad. It’s funny, this is an interesting way of killing me, since you promised that was the first thing you would do once you were freed,” Keith laughed, licking the taste of Lance from his lips, which he parted invitingly.

 

“I said I was going to eat first, _then_ kill. Do you even listen to me?”

 

"I try not to."

 

Lance narrowed his eyes, then dove in to kiss him again as if to prove a point that maybe he could kill him with kisses if he really wanted to. Keith dodged it with as much finesse as he had with his kick earlier, leading Lance to land a nice, wet smooch directly on the bark of the tree instead.

 

“But you are right, this is bad. We have to get back to the others, sorry.”

 

“Nooo!” Lance protested, beating his newly freed hands against the tree like a little kid at the same time that he tried to frantically scrape his tastebuds of bark flavor. It was fun to watch - almost worth dealing with all of that stress, if Keith was being honest. “I don’t want to stop when it’s just getting good, you tease!”

 

Keith wrenched himself from Lance’s grasp, forcing his body to comply with standing away from the warmth of his embrace when every inch of it was screaming at him to stay and give in to Lance’s touches.

 

“Lance, look at the situation a little more broadly. I’m not trying to be a tease. We’re on a strange deserted planet, our actual mission was already intercepted and we have a duty to get back to it, everyone is waiting for us - Hunk _especially_ is counting on us - and we surely can’t say ‘sorry, had to make out and get off in between saving the universe’. That’s not how this works. Besides, did you forget how we’re dressed?” Keith gestured to their suits, his face wrought in the fiftieth exasperated scowl that hour. “You know these aren’t easy to get off! This isn’t a porno, for chrissakes! We can’t magically remove them, or freeze time.”

 

“We can try?” Lance suggested, clasping his hands below him pitifully once more.

 

Keith crossed his arms, giving the sternest look he could muster. Lance backed down from it, defeated, and hopped to his feet.

 

“Okay, okay, let’s go. But seriously, let me cool down in the lion or whatever, it’s going to be awkward as heck walking with a bone the size of a planet around the others.”

 

Keith paused in his walk, twirled around to face Lance, and jabbed a finger into his chest.

 

“Holy shit, you are _not_ jacking off inside my lion!”

 

“Didn’t say that, now did I, haha. D-don’t be weird.” By the way Lance nervously laughed afterwards, Keith had the feeling that’s exactly what he’d been considering. “Just, promise me you won’t go bending over anymore. My poor heart, and dick, simply cannot handle it.”

 

Keith stared him down before pivoting back around and stalking off to his lion.

 

“Whatever," he called back to Lance, who had begun to run to catch up to him. “By the way, with the way our suits are designed, you can’t even tell if you have an erection. So stop being a baby about it. You’ll live.”

 

“I might not. There’s ladies on board, and they have very keen senses of these things!”

 

“Are you suggesting that women have _boner tingling senses_? I am so beyond done with you right now.”

 

“Really?” Lance slung an arm around Keith’s shoulder, and Keith was too tired to bother brushing it off. He cocked a finger gun and aimed a wink at Keith. Typical.

 

“Because I have a feeling we’re just getting started!”

**Author's Note:**

> There’s no phone service in space, but bigotry is universal. Stay safe, folks. Avoid jerk-ass sentient ropes.


End file.
